Page 34 - Italian-American Herald - December 2024

34 ITALIANAMERICANHERALD.COM | DECEMBER 2024 ITALIAN-AMERICAN HERALD
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Margaret Kuo’s Kitchen
Known for exceptional Chinese and Japanese
cuisine in lavish setting with impeccable service.
Large menu of classic dishes plus sushi, vege-
tarian selections, specialty cocktails and hot teas.
Indoor and outdoor dining, plus take-out and
delivery services. (610) 891-8880. Granite Run
Promenade, 1109 W. Baltimore Pike, Media, Pa.
Other locations: Lancaster County Farmers Market,
389 W. Lancaster Ave., Wayne, Pa.
www.margaretkuo.com
Panorama Restaurant & Wine Bar
Classic authentic and contemporary Italian
specialties in the Penn’s View Hotel in the
heart of Old City Philadelphia. 5-9 p.m. Tue.-
Thu.; 5-10 p.m. Fri.; 3-10 p.m. Sat.; 2-8 p.m.
Sun. Dinner entrees $27-$45, including lobster
ravioli, gnocchi tartuffo, braciola, New York
strip. Also offering more than 120 wines on
tap, poured from a custom-made winekeeper
that holds Guinness World Record as largest
in the world. Reservations recommended.
14 N. Front St., Philadelphia. (215) 922-7800.
www.panoramawinebar.com
Serpe & Sons Bakery
Known for 70 years for delicious bread and
rolls, cakes, pies, pastries and cookies, Serpe’s
also offers all the ingredients to make your own
pizza at home. You can also take home Rosa
Fine Foods and Scaramuzza Pasta Products.
1411 Kirkwood Highway, Elsmere.
(302) 994-1868. www.serpesbakery.com
Suburban Food Service
Food truck offering breakfast, lunch and dinner
at your location and time with a day’s notice.
Italian, Mexican, American, Eagles tailgate
parties. Featured items: Grab-and-go cheese-
steaks, taco bowls, lemon roasted chicken,
penne pasta with crispy prosciutto and parmesan.
Lunch entrees $10-$15; dinner $15-$25.
(610) 618-9250. www.suburbanfoodservice.com
IT’S ALL GOOD
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Even if I’m asleep at the wheel, my angels are awake
By Charlie
Sacchetti
When you’re on
earth, approaching
your eighth decade,
you realize that you
can start to relax a
little. You don’t have
to worry about a lot
of the things that are concerns when you are
younger and in a different station of life. For
instance, when I was a young man, I’d never
wear white socks with shoes and slacks. The
socks were always black or brown. Now, who
cares? Years ago, I may have had concerns
about what others may have thought when I
brought up a somewhat controversial topic.
Now I rarely do.
Which leads me to the issue at hand …
my total belief and faith that I do, in fact,
have a guardian angel, who has been given
the task of looking out for me. I realize all
won’t agree but, in my case, I have had one
too many close calls and angelic intervention
no doubt has played a big part in my
weathering those storms.
Like, when I was 26, back in 1973, the
fi rst day of the new job in Temple University’s
Facilities Department. Bud Wilson, my
new boss, decided to show me the main
warehouse on the main campus. This was
a good idea because the distribution of the
furniture stored there was one of the areas of
our responsibility. As we took the large freight
elevator to the third fl oor, I was impressed
with all of the furniture and equipment that
was neatly stored. As Bud walked over to
a wall phone to call the offi ce, I noticed a
piano alongside a rectangular wooden railing.
I decided to go over to see how the piano
sounded. It was clear that it was a shorter
trip if I walked in between the wooden rails
instead of walking around the structure. I
did so and reached to touch the keys. The
next thing I knew I was holding onto one
of the rails, with one hand, dangling over a
large opening, three fl oors up, that contained
the hoist used to pull up heavy loads. I
don’t remember grabbing the rail. Bud was a
hero as he pulled me up to safety but after I
thought about it, I realized that the grabbing
of that railing, in that split second, was
something I never thought of doing.
Five years earlier, I was playing baseball
in a college league in South Dakota. Since
the teams included players from all of the
country, I enjoyed making new friends and
having the opportunity to compete with
some very talented players. Among my
teammates were three guys from California.
Our games were played at night so on a very
hot afternoon they decided to go “tubing”
on a local river. As a kid, our neighborhood
Charlie Sacchetti’s protectors, from left: Archangels Raphael, Michael and Gabriel.
“swim club” was located at the 65th Street
fi re hydrant, midway between Elmwood
and Buist Avenues. Since the water never got
more than two inches deep, I never learned
to swim a stroke! So, when my teammates
asked me to go along on the tubing trip, I
declined. However, after many assurances
that the water in the river was shallow and
we’d all be together, I decided to take the
plunge, so to speak. This was not one of my
wisest decisions. Two guys had cars. One
parked about two miles downstream and
then we all drove upstream to the launching
point. As I held my inner tube, I noticed
that the current was pretty strong and
perhaps I may have made the wrong call.
However, I jumped on the tube and started
to be whisked away. In a matter of seconds,
I realized that the water was lot deeper than
advertised, I had no control over the steering
and those guys were way downstream so I
would be on my own.
I jumped off.
Clinging to the tube, I barely made it
back to the shore. Sitting down catching my
breath I realized that I had come pretty close
to being one of those drowning victims that
we unfortunately hear about every summer.
I was thankful that somehow, I was brought
to my senses and I was now safe. As I walked
back to the car, I was attacked by hordes
of mosquitoes. The car was locked. With
only a bathing suit on, I became an Italian
smorgasbord for about an hour and a half
until the others returned.
The incident that really convinced me
of my angelic intervention occurred in the
winter of 2002. On this day I was working
in the Princeton, N.J., area about 35 miles
from my home. I had had very little sleep for
several nights before, fi ghting off a terrible
cold. This had proven to be a very long day
and as I headed south on a dark Interstate
295, I was really feeling sleepy. It was well
after rush hour, so the traffi c was moving at
the rate of 70-75 mph. I felt myself nodding
off but was able to shake it by opening the
window, raising the volume of the radio and
making a conscious effort to focus on the
details of my surroundings. I noticed I was
approaching Exit 47B, the Burlington-Mt.
Holly. I thought “great, I only have about 10
more miles to go.”
That’s the last thing I remembered until I
opened my eyes and saw the sign that read,
Exit 40, Moorestown.
I am convinced that I was not in control of
the car for those 10 miles. I was not awake. I
passed fi ve exits and then awakened just in
time to get off at my exit and arrive safely home.
As I sit at my desk typing this I can
look up and see my 5-inch statues of the
Archangels, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. I
can’t be sure that any of these guys were with
me on those days but I am certainly sure that
one or two of their buddies were. IAH
Charlie Sacchetti is the author of three
books, “It’s All Good: Times and Events I’d
Never Want to Change;” “Knowing He’s There:
True Stories of God’s Subtle Yet Unmistakable
Touch,” and his newest, “Savoring the
Moments: True Stories of Happiness, Sadness
and Everything in Between.” He was raised in
Philadelphia and lives in Cinnaminson, New
Jersey. Contact him at worthwhilewords21@
gmail.com.